The bald coot is, as we have seen, a rail that has taken thoroughly to an aquatic life. The purple coot may be described as a rail, which, while displaying hankerings after a life on the liquid element, has not definitely committed itself to the water. The porphyrio, then, is a rail which, to use a political expression, is “sitting on the fence.” The indecision of Mr. Porphyrio has somewhat puzzled ornithologists. These seem to be unable to come to an agreement as to what to call him. Jerdon dubs him a coot, Blanford a moor-hen. The New Zealanders term him a swamp-hen, and their name is better than that given him by either Jerdon or Blanford, as denoting that the bird is neither a coot nor a moor-hen. But, perhaps, the classical name best suits a bird which is arrayed in purple and fine linen. For the fine linen, please look under the tail, at what Dr. Wallace would call the bird’s recognition mark, although I am sure it will puzzle that great biologist to say what use so uniquely plumaged a bird as the porphyrio can have for a recognition mark. As well might Napoleon have worn a red necktie, to enable his friends to recognise him when they met him! But this is a digression.

The Greeks were well acquainted with a near relative of the Indian porphyrio, which they kept in confinement. “For a wonder,” writes Finn, “they did not keep it to eat, but because they credited it with a strong aversion to breaches of the conjugal tie in its owner’s household.” He adds: “Considering the state of morality among the wealthier Romans, I fear that accidents must often have happened to pet porphyrios.”

The purple moor-hen is a study in shades of art blue—a bird which should appeal strongly to Messrs. Liberty and Co. Its bill, which is not flat like that of a duck, but rounded, is bright red, as is the large triangular shield on the forehead. Its long legs and toes are a paler red. The plumage is thus described by Blanford: “Head pale, brownish grey, tinged with cobalt on cheeks and throat, and passing on the nape into the deep purplish lilac of the hind neck, back, rump, and upper tail-coverts; wings outside, scapulars and breast light greenish blue; abdomen and flanks like the back; the wing and tail-coverts black, blue on the exposed portions; under tail-coverts white.”

So striking a bird is this coot, that it cannot fail to arrest one’s attention. Many sportsmen seem unable to resist the temptation of shooting it. Mr. Edgar Thurston informs me that a cold weather never passes without some sportsman sending him a specimen of Porphyrio poliocephalus for the Madras Museum. They come across the bird when out snipe-shooting, and, thinking it a rare and valuable species, pay it the very doubtful compliment of shooting it. As the museum has now a sufficient stock of stuffed porphyrios to meet its requirements for the next few decades, I hope that sportsmen in that part of the world will in future stay their hand when they come across the beautiful swamp-hen.

Rush-covered marshes, lakes, and jhils, which are overgrown with reeds and thick sedges, form the happy hunting-grounds of this species. Its long toes enable it to run about on the broad floating leaves of aquatic plants. They also make it possible for the bird to cling to the stems of reeds and bushes. Very strange is the sight it presents when so doing—a bird as big as a fowl behaving like a reed warbler. The long toes of the porphyrio are not webbed, but are provided with narrow lobes which enable it to swim, though not with the same ease as its cousin, the bald coot.

In places where it is abundant the purple swamp-hen is very sociable, and keeps much more to cover than does the coot. When flushed, it flies well and swiftly, with its legs pointing backwards—the position so characteristic of the legs of the heron during flight. Its diet is largely vegetarian, and it is said to commit much havoc in paddy fields. The harm it does is probably exaggerated, for the purple coot flourishes in many districts where no paddy is grown.

This species has one very unrail-like habit, that of taking up its food in its claws. Its European cousin, P. veterum, was seen by Canon Tristram “to seize a duckling in its large foot, crush its head and eat its brains, leaving the rest untouched.” This behaviour Legge stigmatises as cannibalism! There is no evidence that the purple moor-hen is a cannibal, but it is not safe to keep the bird in the same enclosure as weaker birds.

Its voice is not melodious; indeed, it is scarcely more pleasant to refined ears than the wail of the street-singer.

Purple coots breed in company. The nest is a platform made of reeds and rushes, or, when these are not available, of young paddy plants, erected on a tussock of long grass projecting out of the water, usually some way from the edge of the jhil. Hume’s observations led him to lay down two propositions regarding the nesting habits of this species. First, “that all birds in the same swamp both lay and hatch off about the same time.” Secondly, “that in two different jhils only a dozen miles apart, and, apparently, precisely similarly situated, there will be a difference of fifteen days or more in the period of the laying of the two colonies.” Neither of these statements appears to hold good of the purple coot in Ceylon, for, according to Mr. H. Parker, “they do not breed there simultaneously.” “Young birds, eggs in all stages of incubation and partly built nests are all found in the same tank. In some cases the eggs are laid at considerable intervals. I have met with a nestling, partly incubated eggs of different ages and fresh eggs in the same nest.” Widely distributed species not infrequently display local variations in habit. Such local peculiarities are of considerable interest, for they must sometimes form the starting-points for new species. They are also responsible for some of the discrepancies which occur in the accounts of the species by various observers. The nesting season is from June to September; August for choice, in India. The eggs are pale pink, heavily splashed with red, quite in keeping with the beautiful plumage that characterises the adult bird. Sometimes the eggs of purple coots are placed under the barn-door fowl. Young porphyrios hatched under such conditions become quite tame and form a pleasing addition to the farmyard.